Fire From the Ashes
by nakanaka
Summary: Fire Lord Zuko faces the daunting task of stripping away a hundred years of expansionism with a government that does not yet trust him. Zuko has always had to fight to succeed, but this time he has allies. Zuko/Mai at the end. Please read and review!


_**A/N:** As a historian I was (am) really fascinated by the task that Zuko faced as Fire Lord, namely reconstructing a century's worth of fascism and militaristic expansionism from the __inside. From the bureaucracy to the foreign relations to the subconscious mental attitudes of the people--fascinating stuff! Anywho, this examines not only that, but the effect this responsibility would have on Zuko himself, so I threw a bit of Maiko in there too. (I'm not actually a huge fan of Mai, so I'm sorry if she seems out of character? I don't know how to write for her really, but I did my best.) So, please enjoy! (Sorry it's so long...)_

_**Disclaimer**: I do not own Avatar, but I did make up the Council (entirely). I checked with Avatar Wiki but let me know if my government facts are off._

* * *

There was the soft rustling of expensive silk as formalities ended and the Council meeting resumed. Twelve senior government officials that comprised the cabinet sat on the plush red cushions that surrounded a long glass table in the center of the otherwise sparse room. The old tapestries illustrating the cult of nationalism on which Ozai had thrived, his taste in ornate and gilded decoration, his high throne at the head of the table had all been removed by his son; instead, simple scrolls with the characters for peace and prosperity hung one to each wall, and the Fire Lord knelt on a gold cushion at the table with the Council. It would take a while for the sycophantic tendencies to subside and the true politics to begin, but the young Fire Lord was determined to win the Council's loyalty through reason and action, not through seating arrangements and empty bravado.

One custom he would keep, however, was his privilege to speak first. The Council members would attempt to follow whatever precedents he set here, at their first reconvening since Azulon dissolved all aspects of the government he saw superfluous: he had only used the Council to dictate his propaganda policies and war aims anyway. In this respect at least, his grandson was wiser. The Council represented all aspects of the government: agriculture, military, housing and development, economy, education, law, finance, health, environment, foreign relations, bending, and spirituality—the Fire Sages. Without their knowledge and support, the Fire Lord would not know how to effect any changes in the system, even with the Avatar on his side.

Zuko looked searchingly across the table at the Council members, who stared back expectantly. The weight of what he had to accomplish was bearable but for the sickening feeling that he would ruin everything. He hadn't the commanding presence of his father nor the natural charisma of his sister, nor the aura of sheer power that surrounded the Avatar. He was simply a teenager with too-long black hair and a vicious scar on his face that left his eye in a permanent squint.

"Thank you, Council members, for joining me here on such short notice," he began formally, heavily. He glanced at the far corner of the room, where two scribes were scribbling away. "It has been too long since the Council has met, and there is much to do in the Fire Nation and in the world. I would like to welcome our guest at the table, Ambassador Lo of the Earth Kingdom." Zuko paused, then continued smoothly as if he had not forgotten the formality, "You have my permission to address the table."

Ambassador Lo was a thin, dark man with thin, dark hair and mustache and thin, dark eyes. He turned from his seat beside the Fire Lord to bow his head in respect for the Council. "Your Highness has been most gracious and hospitable," he said politely, though Zuko had heard him complain to the servants about his accommodations in a spare room of the royal palace. "His Majesty the Earth King has bestowed me with the honor of offering a peace treaty, which will also dictate some economic and political matters between our two realms in the years to come." The ambassador licked his lips. "It would, I think, be a most convincing sign of goodwill if the Fire Nation were to sign it as is."

There was a general adjusting of robes and shuffling with papers that indicated the Council's opinion of _that_. Neither the ambassador's comment nor the Council's attitude was lost on Fire Lord Zuko.

"I would like to hear the terms of the agreement, Ambassador," replied Zuko carefully. "Please recite them to the table."

Ambassador Lo withdrew a long scroll and cleared his throat. "The first, and certainly the most important, part of this treaty is its peaceful nature. The Fire Nation will agree to never make war against the Earth Kingdom or any of her confederates, territories, satellites, or subjects; nor will the Fire Nation hinder the Earth Kingdom's livelihood in any way, including but not limited to the hindering of trade ships and caravans, the rivers, seas, and roads they travel on, regardless of their destination. The Fire Nation—"

"Your Majesty, please forgive my interruption of the good Ambassador," said Councilman Lee, "but this stipulation forbids us to enact any kind of trade embargo against the Earth Kingdom; now certainly we wish for peace and prosperity, but as Your Majesty's economic advisor, I must advise against making such restricting agreements that will need to be renegotiated five, ten years from now."

"Yes, Councilman, I see your point," said Zuko diplomatically. Should he raise an objection now, or let the ambassador continue? Deciding it would be rude to pick apart the treaty as they read along, he motioned for Lo to continue.

"The Fire Nation will agree to open its borders to duty-free trade with the Earth Kingdom, and will encourage economic endeavors between our two countries to the best of its ability, including but not limited to the repair and construction of roads, canals, and other public efforts to the same effect," pronounced Ambassador Lo.

"Your Majesty," began Lee, but he was silenced by a gesture from the Fire Lord.

"Let's save questions until we have read through the treaty," Zuko announced. With his unscarred eye, he saw the ambassador eyeing the next condition with his lips pressed together firmly. It wasn't a good sign.

"Due to the Fire Nation's harsh and unwarranted attack on the fields of the Earth Kingdom under the influence of Sozin's Comet, in addition to the conquering of Earth Kingdom territories as colonies, it is the wish of the Earth King that the Fire Nation pay reparations for the irrevocable damage that has been done—"

Only uncertain respect for the new Fire Lord kept the Council from erupting outright at that word. Grumbling and muttering, the members looked to Zuko for a reaction.

He kept his expression carefully blank, a tactic he had learned as a boy in the royal court but only practiced recently; he had believed it was not the way of Fire Benders to be diplomatic and dispassionate until he had relearned the secrets of Fire Bending from the dragons. Now he saw how Uncle Iroh's careful countenance had not been a sign of a fading dotard, but of wise and diplomatic contemplation. In his days as Fire Lord, Zuko had hidden his true opinions far more often than he could have imagined—was he not king? Could he not do and think as he pleased?—leaving him completely exhausted at the end of the day. By the time he returned to his private quarters, there were no secrets left to keep.

"Ambassador Lo," began Fire Lord Zuko, "I understand that the Earth King and his people are angry. They want vengeance. They deserve it." He faced the ambassador with the hardened eyes of experience. "But vengeance will not bring peace to the Earth Kingdom; it will only continue the violent cycle."

"Perhaps you would like to speak with the survivors who have lost families in the attack, and explain to them why the Fire Nation will not pay to at least rebuild their homes," Lo said coldly.

"Many cruel deeds are done in times of war," spat General Zhu. "We do not ask the Earth King to pay for the homes his armies destroyed and the men they killed."

"What homes and men? You call that _war_? It was a massacre! We were a peaceful nation," argued Lo.

"War is one matter, but there is no reason our subjects should have to bear the burden of paying for the army's problems," said Councilman Lee.

"The Fire Nation may conjure the money as His Majesty sees fit," shrugged Lo.

Finance minister Cao Song frowned beneath his thick mustache and beard. "Reparations are the last thing our economy needs. More importantly, most of that money will get caught in the red tape and never reach the people you claim to help."

"The Earth Kingdom has a stricter bureaucracy than the Fire Nation, as well as its own leadership questions to handle," agreed Councilman Rao, stroking his coffee-colored beard streaked with gray. "Even if payments were arranged, they'd go right into the government's pockets. The provinces are too autonomous for the Earth King to control."

"Wasn't the Earth King merely a figurehead?" snorted Cao Song.

"_That_," snapped the Ambassador, "is a matter for the Earth King to handle, _not_ for Fire Nation officials to debate." His lips pursed in offense, and shot a glance at Zuko, incredulous that he would let his cabinet yammer on without direction. In the days of Fire Lord _Ozai_ this would never have—

"Enough." Fire Lord Zuko's voice was low with forced composure. He did not fear the Council; they would obey him, if not respect him, but he had seen the look in the Earth Kingdom ambassador's face. He recognized the disappointment, the condescension as his father's. Then his frown would deepen like he'd tasted something bitter, and pronounce his son a failure.

Zuko swallowed hard, focusing his mind in the meditation techniques he had learned from his uncle. His father was gone, _he_, Zuko, was Fire Lord, and he would not let his past impede his judgment. Azula had easily manipulated government officials (and her own friends) into doing her bidding, but Zuko was only now learning the ropes of politics. His father should have prepared him for this years ago instead of banishing him to search for the Avatar. Now, Zuko could only do what felt right. His uncle believed he was capable of at least that.

Raising his eyes to the officials around him, Zuko realized he had paused too long. General Zhu began, "Your Majesty, the honor of the Fire Nation—"

"Do _not_," interrupted Zuko, rising to his feet in anger, "talk to me about _honor_!"

The general sat back on his embroidered cushion and was silent.

"Ambassador Lo." The ambassador raised his eyebrows innocently as the furious Fire Lord turned on him. "The Fire Nation has committed evil crimes against your people, under my father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. But paying off the government is not going to bring back the people killed, or rebuild homes, or replant fields… Reparations would damage the already-fragile relations between our two nations, not to mention destroy both our economies.

"However," Zuko returned to his seat, his voice softening, "I think it would be a good show of friendship and faith if we were to help in the rehabilitation of the lands destroyed by my father. Perhaps a joint venture of volunteers and paid skilled workers…" Here he trailed off, uncertain about the logistics of his proposed plan.

There was a slight pause, the Council wary of interrupting him again and incurring another outburst. Zuko searched their faces, fearing the worst—they thought him unstable, immature, a naïve idealist, a rebellious teenager. He could see it in their eyes. If any sided with him, they were loath to speak up, lest they be scrutinized next.

And then—was he imagining it? No—a small, steady, reassuring smile from the old woman at the other end of the glass table. Her face was wrinkled with age, but her skin was smooth and seemed to glow from within. A large ruby was set into the band of her tall, red, pronged headdress, marking her as the highest ranking Fire Sage, Great Sage Lai Sen. Zuko had never met her personally, but he knew the Fire Sages had once dedicated themselves to spiritual enlightenment and the Avatar before his great-grandfather, Fire Lord Sozin, had forced them to switch their allegiance to earthly authority.

He doubted the Great Sage would support him out of blind loyalty, and questioned her motives… but now, with all eyes watching contentiously for his next move, Zuko would take any support he could get.

Sensing his hesitancy, the Great Sage assumed permission to speak. "Fire Lord Zuko has shown wisdom beyond his years in taking up the mantle of peace so selflessly." Her voice was quiet but powerful, cutting through the tension and dousing all anxiety and doubt like a sudden breeze putting out a candle. With her next words, Zuko felt a surge of hope as if the candle was lit again. "He has learned through experience the steps that are necessary to regain a foe's trust. The Council must help him to apply that on a large scale."

Another sweep of the room told him that his emotions had not been the only ones affected by the Great Sage's hidden power. Where before he had found doubt and mistrust, he now found pliable allies… to varying degrees.

"The Great Sage is right," nodded Councilman Lee, always eager to speak.

Rao, who specialized in foreign relations, raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. "It would certainly show the Earth Kingdom that we are taking a new direction, and would send a positive message to the Southern and Northern Water Tribes as well."

"I am sure the Earth King would approve, in lieu of reparations," agreed Ambassador Lo, eyeing the Fire Lord with newfound respect.

Even the notoriously stubborn agriculture minister Gao looked less so.

Zuko hid his sigh of relief at the change of heart. It scared him, how close he had just come to being overthrown—an unthinkable practice under a stern dictator like Sozin or Ozai, but with a rash young leader like himself, well, all it took was unlocking Azula from her cell. He wasn't out of the fire yet, so to speak, but he allowed himself a small grateful nod of acknowledgement to the Great Sage.

"Your Majesty, I must beg to ask, how exactly would we fund such a philanthropic mission?" asked Cao Song. "You speak of paid, specialized workers as well as volunteers, but even they must have tools and supplies. There must be seeds to plant, equipment, wages, accommodations…"

"If we are to re-seed the entire section of the Earth Kingdom that was scorched, it will take more than seed and tools. The goal of that mission, after all, was to ensure that life could not return so quickly." Councilman Gao said gruffly.

Great Sage Lai Sen answered him with a small smile. "The lotus flower grows in murky swamp bed, yet still it blooms."

Gao looked rather taken aback and fell silent, visibly uncomfortable.

"The point remains, however, that this will be a long and difficult undertaking. It will be impossible to pay for with the current budget," pointed out Cao Song.

"What is our current budget?" asked the Fire Lord. "Do you have the figures?"

The Councilman withdrew a small scroll detailing the allotted amounts for each section of the government. "This is merely an overview; I have more detailed expense reports if his Majesty is interested."

Fire Lord Zuko had examined the scroll for no more than a few seconds before he spoke. "This indicates that over seventy percent—almost eighty—is for the military."

General Zhu, the war minister and second-in-command of all the armed forces, cleared his throat. "Specifically, your Majesty, the payroll of the soldiers and officers, their equipment and weapons, maintenance and building of ships and tanks, overseeing the colonies, the civilian police force…"

"Well then, this should be easier than I thought," said the Fire Lord. "Decrease the size of the military to thirty percent for the time being, and in two years down to fifteen."

There was a collective gasp at the sudden bold decision, but only General Zhu was truly offended; this meant the expansion of their own departments.

"_Thirty_?! Y-your Majesty, that is hardly—!"

"We are no longer at war, General," said Fire Lord Zuko calmly. "If we drastically decrease the size of the army, we can cut down on payroll, the amount of equipment and tanks in service, and the colonies, well…"

"Your Majesty, you can't be thinking—"

Zuko announced, "The colonies will be given complete autonomy."

The general put his head in his hands.

"Or returned to the Earth Kingdom, depending on the situation," he added.

"The Earth King will be most pleased about _that_," said Ambassador Lo.

Councilman Rao exhaled audibly. "I understand your Majesty's desire to give up the colonies, but I must advise against complete and immediate cessation of governance. We must look into how developed their provincial government systems are, and how closely entwined their finances."

"It may, your Majesty," said Councilman Lee hesitantly, "be more beneficial to _keep_ the colonies, especially considering the, ah, new budget plans your Majesty has laid out. They do bring in substantial revenue—"

"The colonies will not be kept, Councilman. They were taken by force. I suppose if there is a unanimous decision among the inhabitants that they wish to remain a part of the Fire Nation, I will accept that decision, however…" The Fire Lord looked around at the incredulous faces of his Cabinet.

When at last Councilman Guo Lin, master of law and justice, spoke, his voice shook with concern. "The Fire Lord has never followed the decisions of his _subjects_, your Majesty."

Fire Lord Zuko answered, "They are not subjects. They are citizens."

* * *

Five hours later, the first meeting of the Council of the Fire Lord adjourned, with a plan to reconvene the next morning. Zuko watched the Council members exit the room one by one; he could hear them sigh and saw them dab their faces with silk handkerchiefs. But he was the most exhausted of all. He was used to having to fight to succeed, but these officials had spent years in politics, familiarizing themselves with the delicacies of diplomacy and formal conversation. Not to mention they had nothing to prove, nothing to lose. He had risked it all trying to transform the government, the bureaucracy, the mindset of his father's time. But if any one person could win against a hundred years of expansionism, totalitarianism, and militarism—it was Zuko.

It was too much for a sixteen-year-old.

"Fire Lord Zuko." The calm voice cut through his battered emotions and settled his mind. Great Sage Lai Sen stood at the other end of the glass table, her gold eyes seeing more than his stiff visage.

"Great Sage." Immediately he stood and bowed—not very low, as that would be unbecoming of the Fire Nation's leader—and the Fire Sage bowed in return.

"The Fire Lord is brave to challenge a century of precedence in one day," the old woman praised with a smile. "History will remember Zuko more admirably than any before him."

Zuko was at a loss for words. He could not imagine little schoolchildren memorizing his dates of birth and death, his achievements, his children's' names; it was too distant. But then again, a year ago he never would have imagined himself standing here, crowned as Fire Lord, the world at peace. A peace that was his job to preserve.

"The Fire Lord must always present himself accordingly, but Zuko has no such obligation." A pale, wrinkled hand emerged from beneath her plain red robes as she reached out and gestured to the regalia secured upon his head. "You need only remove that crown."

Zuko reached up instinctively at her comment and felt the tips of the five-pronged tongues of gold fire tucked into his topknot. After a moment of hesitation, he gave the crown a tug, and thirty minutes of the servant's careful hairdressing came undone. The iron flame was small and cold in his hand.

The Great Sage watched him as he stretched his back, feeling as if a weight larger than the tiny crown had been lifted from his shoulders. He ran a hand roughly through his hair, mussing it up until it fell into his eyes. Wearing his hair down reminded him of the days he had spent serving tea with his uncle in Ba Sing Se, or with Team Avatar struggling to do good. Things weren't any easier then; in fact, he had to admit he had it much easier now. Relaxing at the royal palace, relieved at the peace of mind he had gained after defeating his father and, well, saving the world with the Avatar. Zuko wondered what Aang was up to now, and Katara and Sokka and Toph… and Mai.

Lai Sen's voice slid smoothly in between his thoughts without jarring him to the present. "You are not alone, Zuko."

Zuko bowed deeply, his hair falling forward into his eyes. "Thank you, Great Sage," he said sincerely. "I don't know what you did, but without it, I couldn't have won over the Council. I don't want to think about what could have happened."

He rose and saw her tilt her head, eyebrows raised innocently. "But it was the Fire Lord's charm that won them over, your Majesty," she insisted with a smile and a bow, then left him alone in the room.

Mai… Where could he find her now?

* * *

The clouds that had covered the sun that morning, the last time he saw it, had passed, apparently, in the time Zuko had spent inside. He leaned against the railing of the balcony outside the royal bedroom into the twilight, stretching his stiff joints against the cool black stone. It was made of some kind of volcanic rock, as were many of the architectural details in this wing of the royal palace. This wing had never been used when Zuko lived here. Still, he had to admit he was glad his old suite had been destroyed in the invasion. He had bad memories of the place.

That was the last time he saw his mother.

When the construction was finished, Zuko would not even recognize his old bedroom. It was being completely restructured so the windows faced south rather than east; the morning sun had always woken him too early. But he doubted he would ever use that room again. His father's room was easy to tear down when he was already erasing his father's touch on the entire palace: the throne room, the Council chambers, the paintings in the hallways. He had already confronted his father, his father's legacy. But returning to his old room would mean returning to the small, helpless child he had been when his mother left, repeating his mantra, "Azula always lies," clamping his hands over his ears, closing his eyes against stinging tears.

The only other room he would have left alone was his mother's room, but it had been mutilated after she left and any evidence of her presence had been obliterated. Sometimes Zuko wondered if it pained his father to visit that room, knowing the truth about what had caused his mother to leave. Zuko's ignorance was certainly painful enough.

Exhaling forcefully, Zuko propped his forearms against the railing and rolled his shoulders, concentrating on the meditation breathing techniques Uncle Iroh had forced him to master. He had never been particularly skilled at controlling his temper, but he thought that mastery might improve in the years after he defeated his father and restored balance to the world and all that. He had thought, perhaps naively, that things would be easy. His father had made being Fire Lord look easy enough, bossing around his subordinates and generals.

A cool evening breeze rustled through his hair and thin silk nightrobes, almost masking the soft voice that called behind him.

"Hey."

He turned his head, but the dark-haired girl was already approaching the railing beside him. As she placed her arms against the dark metal, her long red sleeves shifted, exposing her pale, slender wrist.

Mai leveled him with her golden eyes, their typical squint now softened and careful. It was strange seeing her long black hair fall across her back and shoulders. He watched her look him up and down, unreadable as always.

"You look tired."

"I am." Compared to her serene tone, even Zuko's voice sounded ragged. If tomorrow was going to be another today, he didn't know if he could take it. He reminded himself that he had been through worse, that he had always had to fight to succeed, but that didn't make the fight itself any easier. His only comfort was that he was not alone: he knew he had an ally in the Great Sage, but there were eleven other Council members (not to mention the other Ambassadors, kings, chiefs, politicians, and ordinary people) still to win over.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mai asked after a pause he hadn't even noticed. He had left that wing of the palace but he had taken its troubles with him; his attempt to separate work from play wasn't going so well.

"No," he sighed. "I've talked enough today. No one listens anyway."

"I'll listen."

Zuko saw her expression was earnest. It made the corners of his mouth lift. "Thanks, but I don't even have the energy to rant about dirty politicians right now." He turned back to the spectacular night view without seeing any of it. "I want to believe I'm making a difference, but…"

There was another brief silence. The breeze picked up again briefly, a cool north wind, and Mai shifted closer to Zuko. He could feel the warmth of her arm against his through their thin silk robes, and wondered fleetingly just how thin her robes were.

Quickly he forced his eyes to see the scenery from the balcony: the lush green trees and sandy beaches, the distant crashing of waves and chirping of cicadas, the brilliant starry sky.

"I always feel so small looking up at the stars," Zuko said. "We must look like ants from those stars. If I live or die, it all goes on with or without us. It's like nothing we do matters."

Mai smiled. The smiles he used to fight to tease out now came naturally. "Even ants have their part to play in this world, whether we notice it or not. It's actually like… even _we_ matter. Everything we do matters."

Interested, he turned his head away from the sky and their eyes met.

They moved as one.

As their lips touched, Zuko found his exhaustion lifted, his cynicism and anxieties eased—instead of fatigue, he felt serenity. Their fingers entwined and he felt balanced. The distance between them closed and he felt whole.

Their lips drew apart to inhale the sweet night air, and there, under starlight and above the verdant landscape, holding her in his arms, he felt at one with the universe.

Enlightenment.

He drank in the calm gold of her eyes and she knew it too. She could hear his heart pounding, feel it through his bare chest: she laid her head against him where his robes had parted, ran a finger down his stomach to hear it skip a beat, stopping at the knotted sash that held the garment together. He tilted her chin up, kissed her again, her lips intoxicatingly sweet, his other hand circling around her waist, feeling the heat of her back through the fabric.

When Mai tugged at the knot around his waist and led him back inside, he did not argue.

The night breeze rustled the curtains by the balcony, echoing the chorus of rustling trees and endless tides, the stars twinkling silently in the sky.

* * *

_I haven't actually decided if or when I will continue this, as it's more of a character study than a pairing study, but if you enjoyed it and you want to see more, reviews are good encouragement~~ (shameless) But thanks for sticking through to the end! Hope you liked it?_ ~nakanaka


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